“Hey, guys. They’re ready for you. Follow me,” Christy, the bank manager, says, leading us down the hall toward the back of the bank.

Feeling Ellie’s hand find mine and give it a squeeze, I squeeze hers back before walking into a large office. There are two desks stationed in front of each other and a circular table on the other side of the room, with two women I know sitting on one side with three empty chairs across from them. Seeing the women, I smile. It’s Selma and Sejla, Ellie’s clients from the salon.

“I didn’t know you guys were working on our loan.” Ellie laughs, walking around the table to hug both girls.

“We didn’t know either. Kirk was supposed to handle your case, but he’s been out sick for a few days,” Selma explains as she gives me a hug.

“Have a seat, girls. I think we may have some amazing news for you,” Sejla says, motioning us to the empty chairs.

“You two are in good hands. If you need anything, let me know,” Christy states before she gives us a smile and leaves.

Taking a seat, I watch Selma and Sejla work in sync, which isn’t surprising, because they are twins. I imagine twins, who are as close as they are and spend as much time together as they do, would practically share the same brain.

“You guys have been approved for the loan,” Sejla says with a smile, pushing a paper across the top of the desk toward us.

“You’ll notice we were only able get you approved for your loan amount and an extra thirty thousand,” Selma adds, pointing out the final figure with the tip of a highlighter before running over the number with the hot pink color. “We know it’s not what you were asking for, but hopefully it will be enough to do some renovations. We’re thinking that if you come back in a few months, you should be able to get the rest of the money if you still need it.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe, looking at Ellie’s and my name in black lettering on the paper. “This is really happening.”

“It’s really happening,” Ellie agrees, and I turn my head to look at her smiling face then she throws her arms around me.

“We’re going to own our own salon,” I say, hugging her, and she leans back to look at me.

“Yes, and it’s going to be the best fucking salon in all of Tennessee by the time we’re done with it.”

“It is,” I agree as she takes her seat once more.

“Have you thought of a new name, or are you keeping it the same?” Selma asks, looking at the two of us, and I shake my head. I still can’t believe this is real. I don’t think I’ll be able to think about a name until my new reality hits me.

“Color Me Wild,” Ellie says, and I swing my head in her direction.

“Color Me Crazy.”

“Yes!” She laughs, throwing her head back. “Color Me Crazy, that is so perfect.”

It is perfect, and this is really happening. Ellie and I are going to own our own shop. Holy shit! I want to call Sage and tell him my good news.

“All right, now that the exciting part is done, we need to sign papers,” Sejla inserts as she pulls out a stack of papers from a folder.

“That can wait a second,” Selma states, looking at me. “First, tell us what is happening with you and your guy.”

Laughing at that, I tell her and Sejla about Sage and me, and by the time I’m done, they are both wearing smiles that match my own.

Sage

PULLING UP NEXT to Kim’s car in front of my house, I park and head up the walkway, carrying the bottle of champagne I picked up on the way home. Kim called this afternoon, yelling into the phone that she and Ellie had gotten approval for the loan for the shop. As happy as I was for her news and the fact she called me before anyone, I couldn’t really talk, so I told her we’d celebrate when I got home.

I unlock the door and push in and am instantly assaulted with the smell of garlic and something else I can’t make out. Dropping my keys to the table, I head down the hall toward the scent, and the sound of Ed Sheeran playing in the background along with Kim’s horrible singing over the top of it. Stopping at the threshold where the kitchen and hall meet, I stop to enjoy the show.

Kim is in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove with a wooden spatula to her mouth as she sings a sad song about a man losing his woman and wanting her to be happy, even if it’s not with him. That man was obviously a fucking idiot, or he had never felt what I feel for Kim. I don’t want her happy with anyone else; I want her happy with me. Call me selfish, but it is what it is.

Walking around the long peninsula that divides the kitchen from the living room, I come up behind her, realizing only then that her eyes have been closed. The second my hand comes to rest on her waist, she screams at the top of her lungs and spins around to face me with a hand to her chest.

“Easy,” I say quietly as I watch her chest heave.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she accuses.

“Sorry,” I reply, watching her pull in a breath before letting it out slowly.

“It’s okay. I just didn’t hear you come in or even notice you. You’re pretty damn light on your feet for such a big guy. That must be useful with your job,” she mutters, and I laugh.

“It helps,” I agree, dropping the bottle of champagne to the counter behind her before I pull her against me. “Congrats on the loan.”

She smiles, but I only see it for a second before I drag her up my body and place my mouth on hers. Kissing her like a man starved, I lick and nibble at her mouth until I feel her nails dig into my skin through my shirt, and then I force myself to slow the kiss. Pulling back and looking down at her, it takes a second like it always does, but her eyes open to meet mine.

“You stopped,” she complains, and I grin.

“You’re cooking and I need a shower.”

“Oh.”

“What are you making?” I ask, looking over her shoulder into the pan behind her.

“Zucchini and pasta fried in olive oil and garlic.”

“Sounds good,” I lie, and she grins at me knowingly.

“The penne still need to cook, so if you want to shower, you have time.”

“All right. When I get out, we’ll open the champagne.”

“I…” She bites her lip then shakes her head. “I don’t drink.” Frowning, I realize she doesn’t, or at least I’ve never seen her drink. I’ve always assumed it was because she was driving. “I’ll watch you drink it.” She smiles, tipping her head to the side while pressing her hand against my chest. “You should go shower. I need to put the pasta in,” she urges with a smile, but her expression is off, making me wonder what the hell that’s about.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Nothing.” I shake off the feeling that she’s lying. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Don’t rush.” She gets up on her tiptoes, touching her lips to my jaw. “The food will keep.”

With a jerk of my chin, I touch my fingers to her waist and leave her in the kitchen while I head down the hall. Pausing halfway to the bedroom, I turn to glance over my shoulder and see her pick up the bottle of champagne to look at it for a moment before she drops it to the counter. With a shake of her head, her shoulders droop forward.

What the fuck?

Spinning, I start back toward her to ask what the hell that reaction is about, but before I make it there, the doorbell goes off.

“I got it, babe,” I say, walking past her when she turns around.

“Okay,” she agrees, picking up a box of pasta from the counter and dumping the contents into a pot.

Heading down the hall, I move to the door and open it. I don’t know who I’m expecting to see on the other side, but I’m sure as fuck not expecting my parents to be standing in my doorway, my dad carrying a bag and my mom holding flowers. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Apparently, we drove all the way out here to celebrate,” Dad mutters.

“Stop being a jerk.” Mom hits his chest.

“Baby, our son has his girl at his house. She just got good news. Do you really think he wants us here?”